THE OLD RUGGED SELF-CRUCIFIXION

Grimaced faces speaking about happiness,
gritting teeth growling hallelujah
and clenched fists pounded on closed bibles,
declaring in ominous tones thunderbolts waited to destroy
should you fail to do everything they said,
obey each rule and say you had joy deep down inside,
even if you were utterly miserable.

Oh they explain to my confuse teenaged brain,
God lived in a golden tent,
but could see everything,
only He seemed not notice all stupid and immortal things
that I did and notices others did too when not in church,
at least there was no wrath from heaven,
which rained down and wiped us out.

Somewhere I had this fuzzy notion
forgiveness meant I was actually pardoned,
yet sure didn’t stop the guilt being passed around
come every Sunday service.

Tried to fight the battle of staying awake
during the pastor’s sermons,
was grateful he didn’t ask me what he had said.

Got so befuddled and really had no clue
if there was a savior up there somewhere
who really was sane.

Gave up on the lunacy later,
drifted to places where everyone had solutions to life,
none working in any real way.

Then one day when I figured it was all some joke
the Lord’s spirit visited my heart and soul
teaching me grace and mercy,
never learned in Sunday School.

Now I stumble on my path of faith,
outside those whitewash spiritual morgues
feeling the breath of eternity across my face.